Swingset
by Hana-Akikage
Summary: Seated on one of the swings was the source of the tune he was following, a small boy around seven or eight years old, swinging his legs lightly while holding onto the rope "Uh, so . . . "he coughed "Wacha doin' out here kiddo." The boy frowned and stared at him. "First off, that is none of your business mister. Second, it's 'what are you doing' not 'wacha doin'.


The child sat there, alone, on the swing set, the one next to him unoccupied. Neither the children playing nor the adults watching over them took any notice of him, nor did they make any move to sit beside the boy.

And he sits there, a solitary figure on the unmoving swing, and watches.

* * *

Alfred walked home from work that day.

After a busy afternoon of running back and forth between offices and floors, he decided to take the long way home to wind down from his hectic day. So instead of going left at the intersection towards the bus stop, he turned right, towards a small path through the forest preserve.

It was nearing nighttime when he decided it was a bad idea. . .

In the day, the path seemed very lovely, with the scenic forest and being able to feel the nature around him; but once the sun set, the scenic forest started to look like a haunted woods, and he started to "feel" the nature around him staring him down and waiting for a chance to strike him down when he puts down his guard (like a jump scare in a video game he regretted to play).

At least, that was what Alfred thought.

His fear of the dark, ghosts, and anything related to horror games and/or movies _may_ have made him exaggerate, just a little bit . . . but right now Alfred didn't know that . . . and at that moment his mind was supplying him a _very_ vivid image of him playing the said game that he regrets playing.

So when he heard a twig snap behind him he did the first thing that came to mind . . . he ran the opposite direction, screaming like a five year old girl.

 _Ok so maybe running with your eyes closed in a scary dark forest at night was a bad idea_.

Alfred sighed, looked around, and saw himself completely and utterly lost. The path below his feet was replaced by blades of grass and some pebbles; but before he had time to panic, he heard a small voice in front of him. It was a tune to a song that he can't quite remember.

So, against his better judgment, he decided to follow it.

As he walked forward, towards the voice, the trees grew lesser and lesser until he was led to a small clearing with a small playground in the middle. It had all the basic playground things, a few straight and swirly slides, three see-saws, a couple of those horsie things on springs, and a monkey bar and jungle gym. And at the edge of the clearing, a little bit away from the other playground items, was a single swing set.

Seated on one of the swings was the source of the tune he was following, a small boy around seven or eight years old, swinging his legs lightly while holding onto the rope.

When Alfred stepped into the clearing, the boy stopped humming and stilled. He looked at him, his green eyes cat-like in the moonlit clearing, freezing Alfred in place. The child gazed at him as if he was searching for something. Alfred slowly took another step forward, not taking his eyes off the boy.

Apparently attaining his approval, the child nodded at him, looked away, and resumed humming his nameless tune.

Gaining courage at that response, Alfred walked over the other side of the clearing towards the boy and sat on the unoccupied swing. He closed his eyes and felt the soft wind caress his face, with the boy's song calming him down from the day's hype. He sighed and started swinging lightly.

The child, not looking at Alfred, just continued humming his tune until its end.

After a few minutes, Alfred decided to break the silence. So he stopped swinging and looked to his left where the boy sat still, staring into the playground a little ways away from where they both were.

"Uh, so . . . "he coughed "Wacha doin' out here kiddo."

The boy frowned and stared at him. "First off, that is none of your business mister. Second, it's 'what are you doing' not 'wacha doin'. Lastly, I implore that you don't call me kiddo"

"What should I call you then?" Alfred asked, but the boy said nothing.

Alfred, while pouting at the child, started swinging again, slightly harder this time. "How can it not be my business? I mean you're what? Seven years old? And I saw you alone in an abandoned playground thingy in the forest without a parent or guardian in the middle of the night. What am I supposed to say?"

The boy sighed and looked back to the playground. "There's no need to worry mister. It's perfectly safe here."

Alfred opened his mouth to retort (probably something sarcastic about being safe in a potentially deadly dark forest) but the child continued on. "I can also ask the same thing about you."

"Uh . . . Whu?"

The boy put his chin up and said (in a slightly falsetto tone as if to copy Alfred mockingly) "What's a grown man like you doing out here 'in the middle of the night' in an 'abandoned playground thing in the forest? Hm?" the boy raised his eyebrows

 _How could he have pulled that face off with his chubby cheeks?_ Alfred thought to himself. Then the boys question finally sank in

"Well. . ." he trailed off.

Alfred bit his lip and debated with himself whether he should tell the kid the real reason or not. "Er, today was kinda hectic ya' know? I kinda got tired of running around all the time, so I decided to wind down, skip the bus and go the long way."

The swing beside him started creaking, so he looked to his side and saw the boy swinging his feet lightly, looking at him with a small smile.

"It's okay; I'm good at keeping secrets." And for the first time that night, Alfred notices, the boy actually looked his age.

Caught off-guard with the child-like look on the boy's face, Alfred told him everything.

Everything that was bottled up inside him for years was poured out onto the child that he just met that day. His dreams of becoming an artist, his parents telling him that there was no money in that career and forcing him into a college he never heard about and a course he never wanted. Finally ending up in a dead end job that he never liked.

Ejecting his thoughts out like word vomit, he told the child everything. Afterwards, Alfred felt drained and breathless, but he hasn't felt so light in years.

While catching his breath, he felt a small hand on his cheek. He looked up and saw that the boy had abandoned his place beside him and stood in front of Alfred with a worried look on his face.

"It's alright to cry." The boy nodded, as if to agree with himself.

Confused, Alfred looked up at the boy and lifted up a hand to his other cheek, suddenly feeling a wet droplet catch in his fingertips. He pulled back his hand and saw a wet drop of water.

With a breathless laugh, he lifted both hands to his face and let the tears he didn't know he was holding in, fall freely. He cried and laughed and cried until he used up all his tears. Finally, after years and years, he finally felt free.

He smiled his brightest smile in years and reached over to the boy, pulling him into an embrace. Sniffling slightly and trying to wipe away his tears, he whispered to the small child in his arms.

"Thank you."

The boy said nothing, he just stood there returning the embrace and waited until Alfred was ready to let go. After a large sigh (but a lighter and happier one than the one earlier that day) Alfred pulled back and said in a louder voice.

"Thank you."

The boy answered him. "You're very welcome." He stood there while Alfred fixed himself up and cleared his nose and throat from any signs of crying.

After a while, he straightened himself up and gave the child another bright smile, but it quickly turned into a frown as he noticed a wet trail of tears coming down the boy's face.

"Hey, dude, are you crying? Whoa. Uh- um, t-there there? I- um, It's okay?" he frantically tried to console the crying boy in front of him, awkwardly patting his back and head.

He didn't expect the boy to start laughing at him.

Alfred just sat there, dumbfounded, as the boy continued to hold onto his stomach laughing. After calming down (with a few stray giggles here and there) the boy wiped his face and smirked ( _Smirked! The nerve of that kid!_ Alfred thought) at him.

"It's fine, I'm fine, don't worry. I'm used to it." Alfred scowled at the boy and crossed his arms childishly (too put off by the smirk the boy sent him to try to comprehend what he meant.)

The boy let out another soft giggle and returned to his seat. He stared up into the sky and started speaking again. "You know, you shouldn't keep holding all that in. I'm sure there's someone out there who can listen to you and maybe help you out? Someone you can talk to?"

"Well . . ." Alfred thought. "There's my bro, Mattie, but we haven't talked to each other in a while now."

"So talk to him."

"Maybe later, and . . . there's also you."

The boy said nothing and the two were enveloped in silence once again.

* * *

The sun started rising and Alfred woke up in his bed feeling refreshed from his walk in the forest.

While he can't quite remember how and when he reached home, all he knew was that it had been the best night that he's had in a while.

With a smile on his face, he jumped out of bed and got ready for the day. While fixing his things, however, he suddenly got the urge to call someone.

Shrugging, he picked up his phone and dialed in a number that he hasn't contacted in years.

" _Hello?"_

"Hey Mattie, 'sup?"

* * *

 _The boy jumped out of his swing and started to walk away. Surprised, Alfred started following him through the playground._

 _The pair started walking out of the clearing and into the forest._

" _Hey!" Alfred stopped. "It's dangerous out there!"_

 _The boy just looked back at him and smiled, walking away again. Alfred followed after him._

" _Uh. So." He started. "Can I come here next time?"_

" _If you can."_

" _Cool! So, um. Do you have, like, a map or something? Ya' know, so I don't get lost again." He then mumbled, "Although I did get lost in getting here."_

" _When you need it, you'll find it." The boy started walking away faster and Alfred jogged to catch up. He didn't notice the trees lessening and being replaced by small buildings. Nor did he notice that he was already walking the way back to his house._

 _The boy got further and further away so he cupped his hands to his mouth and shouted. "Hey! The name's Alfred."_

 _The boy finally disappeared from his view and Alfred thought he heard the wind carry the boy's small voice to answer._

" _I'm Arthur."_

* * *

Even after the last family left, the boy still sat there, alone again.

As the people started leaving, the grass beneath their feet changing into the path that they left, the memories of the small playground in the woods was never thought of again.

So the small boy sat in the empty playground, alone, with a mall smile on his face, swinging in his seat while humming a tune.

In a playground that doesn't exist.

* * *

 **AN: Hope you like it, I wrote this story as a project for arts and I ended up making it a small fanfic :)**


End file.
